Book Review: In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa’s Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World

I’m currently reading In the Shadow of Slavery: Africa’s Botanical Legacy in the Atlantic World by Judith Carney as part of my research into the folklore surrounding Provision Grounds on St. Croix. This book is a rich resource, not only for its deep historical analysis but for how it weaves together the botanical, cultural, and social legacies of enslaved Africans in the New World. It provides a vital context for understanding how African knowledge systems, particularly around agriculture and medicinal plants, played a crucial role in survival and resistance during the transatlantic slave trade.

The book does a remarkable job of showing how African botanical knowledge traveled across the Atlantic, taking root in the Caribbean, the American South, and other regions. What I found particularly compelling is the examination of Provision Grounds—small plots of land where enslaved people were able to cultivate food. These spaces became sites of autonomy and resistance, where African agricultural practices flourished despite the oppressive conditions of slavery.

The book also highlights the resilience of African people, whose knowledge of plants—whether for food, medicine, or rituals—was passed down through generations and became a key part of life in the New World. This legacy is still felt today in the foods we eat, the herbal remedies we use, and the traditions we uphold. The book reminds us that while slavery was a system of immense brutality, African culture survived, adapted, and influenced the world in profound ways.

One of the aspects I found particularly useful for my work is the book’s detailed exploration of specific plants and their uses, which provides a foundation for understanding how these botanical legacies have shaped not only survival but also identity in the African diaspora. For anyone interested in the intersection of history, agriculture, and cultural survival, In the Shadow of Slavery is a must-read. It’s a powerful reminder of the enduring strength of African traditions, especially in the face of immense adversity.

As I continue to work on my own project exploring the folklore and foodways of St. Croix, this book has given me both insight and inspiration. It’s not just about the plants themselves, but the stories and practices that surround them—how they offer a means of connection to the past, resistance in the present, and hope for the future.

Racism = 1mm of Skin

“Racism is one millimeter of skin.” This phrase has been resonating in my mind recently. It’s such a simple, yet powerful statement about the absurdity of prejudice—how something as superficial as the color of our skin has been used to divide, categorize, and dehumanize people for centuries.

One millimeter. That’s how thin the barrier is between us. Beneath that tiny, fragile layer, we are all made of the same flesh, bone, and spirit. Yet, historically, societies have built entire systems around that minuscule difference, elevating one group while oppressing another, just because of a variation in melanin.

I think about this often, especially as an artist whose work digs deep into history, memory, and identity. When you consider how much of human potential, creativity, and connection has been lost or warped due to racism, it feels overwhelming. How could something so small—so biologically insignificant—be the root of so much pain, hatred, and injustice?

But this phrase also gives me hope. If racism is just one millimeter of skin, then the truth of our shared humanity is always right there, just beneath the surface. The work we do, whether in art, activism, or everyday life, peels away that layer, revealing the sameness that lies underneath. By recognizing this, we can begin to dismantle the structures of racism and build something more equitable, something that honors the depth of who we truly are, beyond appearances.

As an artist, I feel it’s part of my responsibility to highlight this—to create works that speak to that deeper connection, that challenge the notion that skin color should determine worth. And every time I create, I’m peeling back that one millimeter, layer by layer, hoping that others will join me in this slow, necessary process of seeing beyond the surface.

Cordage from My Garden

Yesterday, I spent the morning cutting back the massive Yucca plants that have been growing wild on my compound. These plants are formidable—sharp, resilient, and full of potential. As I worked through the thick, spiky leaves, I couldn’t help but think about the possibilities that lie within them. Yucca has been used for centuries to make strong, durable fibers, and I’m excited to reserve these leaves for a project I’ve been planning: making my own cordage this winter.

When the temperatures finally dip below 85 degrees—yes, I’m waiting for that cool break—I’ll begin the process of extracting the fibers from the Yucca. It’s a slow, labor-intensive task. There’s something deeply meditative about working with natural materials, coaxing fibers from plants that have been growing right outside my door. Plus, it connects me to an ancient practice of using what’s available in nature to create something both functional and beautiful.

But that’s not all. I’ve also been gathering materials for another experiment: natural dyes. The lichen that grows on the Palm trees, and the sorrel I’ve been cultivating all offer the promise of vibrant, earthy colors. Once the cordage is ready, I’ll start playing around with these dyes to see what kinds of hues I can bring out. It’s a way of layering the natural world into every part of the process, from the fiber to the color.

Stay tuned to see how this develops! I’m excited to share the results of these winter projects. There’s a certain kind of magic in watching an idea take shape—especially when it’s rooted in the land around me.

Register for 11/20 Textile Talk

LEARN & MAKE WITH SDA, PART 2
Textile Talk

With Lisa Klakulak, Theda Sandiford, Maggie Hensel-Brown, and Youngmin Lee
Wednesday, November 20, 2pm EST (convert time zone)
Spanning across media and disciplines, Surface Design Association is proud to present its Spring 2025 online workshop series! Join in to hear from four workshop instructors, Lisa Klaulak on wet felting, Theda Sandiford on incorporating found and upcycled materials into textiles, Maggie Hensel-Brown on lacemaking, and Youngmin Lee on bojagi.
Help us celebrate the many techniques and materials used in the field of fiber arts and get a sneak peek at SDA’s 2025 workshops! 

REGISTER NOW

Power Puff Black Racing Stripe

Theda Sandiiford
Power Puff Black Racing Stripes,
36 x 40 x 24 in
Bike reflectors and bell, paracord, Fresh Direct bag yarn, doggie poop bags, plastic newspaper bags and plastic grocery bags woven on gold spray painted recovered shopping cart.
2021

Created using plastic New York Post newspaper sleeves woven onto a gold spray-painted, reclaimed shopping cart, transforming BAD NEWS into a symbol of Joyful Resistance.

Joyful resistance seeks to reclaim spaces and narratives that have been dominated by oppressive forces, flipping the script by finding beauty, connection, and empowerment in the act of standing up for justice. It is about holding space for hope and vision, even in the face of adversity, creating a more vibrant and inclusive world through the act of celebration and creative expression.

Fibre Arts Takes Two: Friday Feature Artist Theda Sandiford


Theda Sandiford is a Conceptual Materials Social Practice Artist who uses everyday objects—like zip ties, bottle caps, and marine debris—to explore themes of equity, inclusion, and microaggressions. Her art draws on her lived experiences and challenges societal biases, using materials that reflect resilience and transformation. The “Blackity Black Blanket,” a prominent piece, uses zip ties woven into fishing nets, symbolizing both softness and discomfort to represent the persistent “poking” of microaggressions. Sandiford’s work often delves into the subtle, often unintentional, racial biases that marginalized people face daily, such as backhanded compliments or prejudiced behaviors. She encourages awareness and mindfulness of these microaggressions, advocating for empathy and a deeper understanding of others’ experiences. Her installations, inspired by marine waste and personal artifacts, invite viewers to engage with challenging conversations around stereotypes and bias, using her art to spark dialogue and reflection on societal issues.

Discover more about Theda Sandiford’s remarkable journey and the stories behind her work in her interview with Fibre Arts Take Two. You can read the full interview here.

Reflecting on the Emotional Baggage Cart Parade at Art in Odd Places Festival

I’m still on cloud nine—and a bit exhausted—after the Emotional Baggage Cart Parade, which took place along 14th Street in Manhattan from October 18-20 as part of the Art in Odd Places (AiOP) Festival. For three days, this public art initiative invited people to acknowledge and lighten the psychological burdens we all carry daily. Ordinary shopping carts were transformed into mobile art installations, offering a powerful visual and interactive metaphor for the emotional baggage we accumulate.

Over 500 participants came together to confront and symbolically release their own burdens, creating a profound experience of communal healing and empathy. As I edit stories for a series of videos showcasing the interactions and personal stories from the event, I am deeply moved by how this project resonated with so many.

My deepest thanks go out to the incredible parade team—without you, none of this would have been possible. April Tracey, Ivy Brown, Amy Andrieux, Anne Choi, Ulysses Williams, Gigi Matthews, Maria Ross, Farai Chideya, Cheryl Mack, Bryant Small, Valerie Huhn, Susan Evans Grove, Lucy Rovetto, Donna Kessinger, Maria & Shalik Thomas and family, Ivy Brown Gallery, Kangaroo Courier, and CustomSashs.com—thank you all for your invaluable support and contributions.

A special thank you to Patricia Miranda and Christopher Kaczmarek, curators of Art in Odd Places 2024: CARE, along with Curatorial Manager Valentina Zamora, Producer Robin Schatell, and AiOP Founder & Director Ed Woodham, for providing such a thoughtful and inclusive space for art and community.

Stay tuned for the video series that captures these moments of shared release and resilience. Until then, I’ll be reflecting on the magic that happens when art becomes a space for connection, healing, and transformation.

Im Taking a Ghost Tour of Old Town Albuquerque

Ghostly image of a weeping woman  with long dark hair by a river flowing through a cemetery

I’ve always been fascinated by the paranormal, ever since I was a kid. Ghost stories, strange encounters, and unexplained events have a way of capturing my imagination, and soon, I’ll be diving into that world again during the Ghost Tour of Old Town Albuquerque. As part of the American Folklore Society gathering, this tour feels like the perfect mix of history and the supernatural.

The tour will take place in Albuquerque’s Old Town, a place steeped in history. This area, with its adobe buildings and centuries-old streets, seems like the ideal setting for ghost stories. The fact that the city dates back to 1706 makes it feel even more like the kind of place where the past and present overlap, where you might just sense something from another time.

What excites me most is the opportunity to explore this part of the city through its haunted history. I’m eager to hear about the legendary La Llorona, and to learn about the spirits said to linger in the old buildings. There’s something captivating about the idea of walking through spaces that have witnessed so much life—and maybe even death. It feels like a way of connecting to the city on a deeper level, where history isn’t just something you read about, but something you might feel in the air.

I’m also really looking forward to experiencing Gabino Noriega’s storytelling. I’m sure his knowledge of local folklore will bring these tales to life in a way that lets us glimpse into Albuquerque’s ghostly past. It’s a chance to not just hear stories but to feel them, surrounded by the very streets and buildings where these legends were born.

For me, this isn’t just about ghost stories, though. It’s about how folklore gives us a way to engage with history, to connect with the past in a way that’s personal, even emotional. I can’t wait to see what Old Town has in store.

‘Merica: Emotional Baggage Cart

Theda Sandiford Merica Emotional Baggage Cart 42 x 24 x 42 in Gold painted recovered shopping cart with a bicycle bell, woven with plastic grocery & newspaper bags, paracord, jute, flag bunting, and cotton patriotic placemats, LED light. 2024


During a recent artist residency in the Allegheny Mountains, a trip to the local Walmart for supplies reminded me that I was in Trump territory and very much “not from around these parts.” This experience brought into sharp focus a part of America I rarely see from within the confines of inner-city enclaves—a landscape marked by cultural and political divides. This work explores these tensions, reflecting on the ways geography, class, race and identity intersect, and aims to create a dialogue that bridges the gaps between urban and rural, familiar and unfamiliar, us and them. I seek to find common ground, to understand the stories under the surface, and to challenge preconceived notions with empathy and curiosity.